


Falling Petals

by starrywolf101



Series: Depressing OneShots [7]
Category: Banana Bus Squad, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Best Friends, Blood, Character Death, Depressing, Flowers, Friendship, M/M, Male Friendship, One Shot, Sad, Sad Ending, Tears, Unrequited Love, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrywolf101/pseuds/starrywolf101
Summary: Jaren got Hanahaki for John and like an idiot, decided to hide it.





	Falling Petals

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this a few weeks ago and am only uploading it now. My phone's been stupid. My friend and I had a friendly competition of who can write a more angsty story of the same topic.

“I've gotta go my dudes, talk to you later!” Jaren calls out into the Skype call. They had just finished recording another session of Golf It, and it was full of insanity. The Canadian chuckles to himself as he reflects on the chaos that John and himself created. Jaren’s mind drifts to Kryoz; the way he talks, the fucked up jokes he makes, his fluffy platinum blond hair.

“No, that's no way to think about your friend!” He scolds himself out loud. Jaren felt weak inside, how stupid was it that he fell for his own best friend? Tears brimmed at the corners of the his eyes as a burning sensation built its way up his throat.

He chokes and hacks as the pain builds up; vision blurring from the salty tears. There was only one thing clear as daylight in front of Jaren, a single striped carnation petal was held between his fingers. Fear grips Jaren’s heart with a hard fist as realization dawns on him. “Fuck,” is all he could manage to say.

He shuts his eyes tightly, and tries to gain control over his breathing: _ ‘five, four, three, two, one’  _  Jaren counts backwards very slowly in his head, and he lays down on his bed. The Canadian soon drifts off into a state of unconsciousness where his dreams distract from the obvious problem.

Jaren wakes up the next morning, blissfully ignorant of the flower petals decorating his floor. He simply walks past them, and into the small kitchen of his apartment. The Canadian manages to pour himself a bowl of cereal before his ringer goes off. All Star started to echo around the room before he picked it up. “Yello?”

“Hey Smit, you up for a game of Mario Kart later?” Wildcat asks, “We've got Nogla, Mini, and Brian playing with us!”

The Canadian thinks for a moment, before answering “Yeah, get ready to get yo ass kicked!” and hanging up the phone. Jaren sighs and picks up the cereal before finding somewhere to sit and eat.

 

***

 

“Brian you fucking piece shit!” Wildcat screeches as he gets hit by three red shells, allowing the Irishman to get ahead into first place. A sudden ‘Yeet' is all the American needs before his voice is shouting in a higher octave, “Smitty!”

“Yeah baby!” The Canadian cheers as he passes by the pissed off man. “How do you like that, you-" Jaren cuts himself off and his character on screen slows to a stop. He could feel it building up in his throat, his lungs burned.

“You ok ‘tere Smitty?” Nogla asks, rather concerned for his friend. A faint coughing could be heard in the background, catching everyone off guard.

“Did the snowman catch a cold?” Wildcat asks, getting a grumble of annoyance from Mini.

“Be nice, Tyler!” The Brit scolds the whiny man, but Wildcat just rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“I'm just saying!”

Jaren comes back to the microphone, and apologizes: “Sorry about that guys, I’m fine! Just choked on my words!” He was never good at lying, but none of his friends pushed him to speak the truth. Jaren was thankful for his lack of a camera, they didn’t need to see the petals that littered the area.

The game carried on, just a little quieter without the frustrating taunts from the Canadian. Once their session had ended, Jaren went to leave the call, but stopped when Mini spoke up: “You doing alright, Smit?” The Brit asked. “We're just concerned about you, I don't think you've ever gotten sick before…”

“I'm fine! A little cough won't kill me!” Jaren exasperatedly spits back at his friend. The others had already left the call, no longer able to hear the anxious Canadian.

“I-if you say so.” Mini mumbles, on the verge of tears. Jaren could hear it in his voice, but he still left the call, leaving his friend in confusion and frustration.

The Canadian continued to ignore his problem for the next few days, concealing each cough or blaming it on an ‘insignificant cold’. Jaren continued to deny the fact of the Hanahaki disease that was slowly killing him. It was quite easy, if he was being honest, to pretend everything was alright. When you were known as a person without a face online, people could never tell the difference between him faking it, and him being truthful.

After a session of his friends pressing him, Jaren finally broke and left the call. Everything was stressing him out and the Canadian was conflicted, overwhelmed by everything. He felt himself slowly breaking down. “There is nothing wrong,” Jaren lies to himself; soon the anxiety pools away, leaving nothing but a calm mind. “I'm fine... I'm fine… I’m- fine…” He chants to himself. The Canadian startled out of his stupor by the phone going off. “Yello!” If he could just smile through the day, maybe nobody would notice.

“Yo, you doing alright Smit?” Jaren felt his blood run cold, John was the last person he had wanted to talk to. “I got some messages from the others, Mini wouldn't stop spamming me.” He chuckled to himself at the last part.

Jaren feels another mental wall barricade him in. He puts on his mask, the one known by the internet. Happy go lucky, and troublesome. “I'm fine, those nerds freaked out because I just choked on air!” The smile hurt, but he needed to fool everyone, including himself.

“I think I know my best friend better than that, tell me what's wrong,  _ Jaren _ .” He shuts his eyes, no need to cry. Rage burned in the Canadian’s heart, how dare John act like he doesn't know!

“I'm fine...” Venom drips from Jaren’s words, catching both men off guard. 

“Jaren-"

“I said I'm fine! Just leave me alone!” The Canadian practically screams into the phone. He doesn't know why he's so angry, he just is. John begins to respond, but Jaren ends the call and throws his phone across the room. He curls into a ball, yelling at nothing. Realization hits him hard, he just yelled at his best friend. Tears of anger and frustration roll down the Canadian’s cheeks. “I don't need anybody! I'm fine!” 

His body shakes with rage as he pushes himself up. Jaren stands and walks to the bathroom. The lights switch on, and the only sound in the room is the tap running. The chilled water felt nice running over the skin on his hands. The Canadian bends over the sink to splash cool water on his face, but stops when he catches a glimpse of his reflection. Jaren stares back into dark, and tired eyes. His hair was a mess, and he looked ungodly. A raging fire builds in his chest, and Jaren screams in frustration.

He punches the mirror hard enough to create a spider web of cracks that reflect continuous copies of himself. Jaren could feel blood drip down his fist; the crimson liquid boiling at the touch of his pale skin. “This is John’s fault! If he never treated me like this, if he just ignored me! If… if he just loved me back…”

Tears that Jaren pushed against, finally spilled from his eyes. The built up rage dispersing with each tear drop that rolled down his pale cheeks. Jaren could never stay angry at anyone, especially not those dearest to his heart.

 

***

 

Days pass, and still, nobody hears a single thing from Jaren, not a single text message nor Skype call. John was growing more and more worried; their last conversation ended with the Canadian blowing up at him suddenly. Videos were still posting on his channel, though the commentary of the normally chipper man was missing.

It's during a group session of stick fight that after a week and a half of silence, a message from Jaren pops up in the group call. “Guys! He’s joining the call!” Mini shrieks out with excitement. Everyone pauses their individual recordings to hear from their friend. John felt his heart drop when Jaren didn't speak, but instead typed a ‘hello’ into the chat.

“Are you alright Smitty?” Nogla asks with an eyebrow raised: “cause yah don't look too well.” Jaren types in chat ‘can’t talk’ in response. A couple of oh’s sounded through the call from all but John, who remained suspicious of Jaren’s odd behavior. The session resumed with complete silence on Jaren’s side of the call, and even a few rounds with the silent Canadian. 

It's only as people begin to leave the Skype call when Jaren panicked. Soon it was only John and himself left in the call, and the blond was rearing up to leave as well. “Please, stay!” The Canadian chokes out, voice hoarse and broken as he begs. His plea cut short by a fit of coughing that brought up more petals, unbeknownst to John. “Don't leave me.”

John felt his heart drop from how small Jaren’s voice was. Then the Canadian did the unthinkable, he turned on his webcam to reveal a ghostly white, frail figure with exhausted hazel eyes and messy white hair. “What happened to you…?” John breathed out in shock and worry. Jaren shakes his head before coughing violently in his fist to catch the petals. The platinum blond man catches a glimpse of a snow white petal dipped in crimson red escape Jaren’s shaking fist, and his eyes widen in shock. “How long?” John could barely get the words past his lips, then he spoke a bit louder: “How long has THIS been happening!?”

Jaren shakes his head solemnly, tears running down his bony cheeks. Shaking pale fingers find their way to the keyboard and begin tapping away at the keys. ‘About a month and a half.’

John curls his hand into a tight fist, fingernails leaving imprints on his palm. “Why didn't you tell me! Everyone’s been so worried; I've been so worried! Yet you've been lying, saying that you're fine! Why did you do that to us Jaren!?” It takes a lot to get John riled up, he was rarely angry, so to see him like this terrified the sickly man. John calms himself down and meets those hazel eyes once again. “I'm gonna catch a plane up to Canada, and you better not try to hide.” Jaren nods and looks down at his desk.

The call ends and John quickly gathers his thoughts before looking online at different airlines and flight timed. Jaren on the other hand was dreading what was to come. He wasn't ready to be face to face with the one person who was the cause of all his pain. He felt absolutely helpless, like a small child lost in the big world. His phone buzzes a few minutes later, and he checks it to find a text from John. ‘I'll be there tomorrow morning.’

Jaren pulls his legs up onto the chair and curls up into a small ball. The burning in his chest begins again and Jaren is coughing up more petals. Then panic builds up as Jaren finds that he couldn't breathe and the pain was even worse than normal. It's over as fast as it started, and in front of him was a fully bloomed flower and stem. Blood dripping from the petals.

Jaren took to Google, looking up different kinds of white flowers until he came upon a match. “Gardenia: means secret love” he read out, voice hoarse and scratchy. Jaren was in shock, was he going to die from suffocation? The thought scared him and a shiver ran up his spine. The Canadian stumbles up from the chair and takes the gardenia with him, petals littered the floor since he no longer had the strength nor the will to dispose of them. Jaren clambered into his bed and curled up around the flower, careful to not crumple the petals.

 

***

 

John drags the wheeled suitcase behind him as he jumps out of the taxi and runs towards Jaren’s house. His phone clock read that it was 8 am. John knocks on the door, but got no response. He knocked again, still nobody answered. Though, his phone buzzed with a text from Jaren; ‘under the potted plant’ it read. John rolled his eyes and lifted up the pot to find the keys to the house. “Of course he hid them under the plastic tree.” 

“Jaren!” He called out upon entering the dark house; the floorboards softly creaked as the Canadian slowly shuffled into view, dried up flower petals coated in blood crunching under his feet. John races towards Jaren to help the other to the couch. “I didn't realize how bad it was…”

Jaren sadly looked up at John and held a small bouquet of pearl white flowers close to his chest. Blood sprinkled the petals, giving the white an ominous contrast. Jaren’s whole body twitched as he began to hack up more flowers, the newest bunch choking the Canadian. John froze at the horrific sight for a moment before gently patting Jaren’s back. In the midst of white and red strewn in front of them, lay a single black rose, blood dripping from the thorns.

Jaren’s eyes held a distant look as he watched the rose. “I don't wanna die,” Jaren whimpers as he leans into John.  Tears rolls down his cheeks as he continues to hiccup up small bloody petals. John cradles Jaren’s body until the fit of flowers is over. 

“It's ok, everything is fine. Shh, let it all out.” John coos to the Canadian and rubs gentle circles on the small of his back. “Now, who are the flowers for?” Jaren just shakes his head, refusing to speak. John thought for a moment before asking another question: “Can you at least tell me if I know this person?” Jaren hesitates before nodding his head. “Have you made an appointment to get them removed?”

A guilty look flashes across Jaren’s face before being quickly replaced with one of indifference. John glares at his best friend, and if looks could kill, Jaren would have stopped breathing within in instant. “So you'd rather drown in petals and hurt everyone around you then get the stupid disease removed?” The platinum blond was exasperated with Jaren’s decisions. “You look here! I'm driving you down to that hospital now.”

John stood up from his kneeling position and dragged the other up with him. He practically shoves Jaren into the car and hops in the driver’s seat. “Glad to see that you're willing to steal my car,” Jaren croaks  out with a smirk. 

“Glad to see your cocky attitude is still there you friggin idiot,” John shoots back. The hospital was a blur to Jaren, he just remembers being rushed away by a few nurse's and John frantically talking to someone at the front desk. Then there were people chattering around him, he didn't understand what they were saying, as someone fitted a clear mask over his face. That's when everything went dark, well everything but John who was standing next to him.

With the smallest bit of energy he had left, Jaren reached into his pocket and pulled out a white petal with pink stripes. He placed into into John’s hand and closed the other’s fingers around it. Jaren’s hand fell limp beside his body as he watched reality slap John in the face before his eyes closed and his mind went blank.

John watched Jaren get wheeled off to the operating room. He was completely shocked by the carnation petal in his hand. Was this, his fault? Did he create this parasite in Jaren’s lungs? Hundreds of other questions, alongside these, raced through John’s mind. Then all he saw was red for just a brief moment. John opens his eyes to find a single red cyclamen blossom cupped in his hand. 

A sad smile drew itself upon his face as tears slid down his cheeks. Jaren could literally no longer love him, so John was doomed either way. He could live with the guilt, or die full of love. John found his choice to be easy.

A few months later, Jaren gathers a bouquet of pink carnations; coreopsis, cyclamen; red roses; and blue salvias with a smile on his face as he drives out to the meadow. He walks up to a gravestone and places the flowers down. “I'm sorry John, should've told you sooner. Guess I'm a coward, huh. I loved you to the point of hurt, guess that's why you went. Wait for me, will you?”


End file.
